


Ghosting

by fezwearingjellybananas



Series: Hartmon Halloween [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Haunted Houses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27335014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fezwearingjellybananas/pseuds/fezwearingjellybananas
Summary: Hartley didn't like Cisco. So, if he was desperate enough to be asking Cisco for help with his apparently haunted house, maybe Cisco should take him seriously. There had to be an explaination for it all somewhere. Maybe with the electrics. Flickering lights definitely sounded like an electrical fault. Not ghosts, ghosts weren't real.There's something going on with this house though.
Relationships: Cisco Ramon/Hartley Rathaway
Series: Hartmon Halloween [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992061
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16
Collections: Hartmon Halloween





	Ghosting

**Author's Note:**

> For Hartmon Halloween Day 3: **Urban Legends** /I choose trick
> 
> Ghosts count as Urban Legends, right?

"Have you been drinking?" Cisco asked. Hartley turned and walked away. "No, wait!"

Cisco rushed to catch up.

"Look," Cisco said. "It's just, well, I didn't- You're telling me you've moved into a haunted house. You, who put logic and science above everything else, even things like maybe being polite, and you decided to tell me when you hate me."

"I don't hate you."

"You don't like me."

"You don't like me either."

"Then why tell me? You said you haven't told anyone else about this, so why me?"

"I thought you would be the most likely to listen, but clearly I was mistaken, so I'll-"

"No, hey, I am listening," Cisco said. "I'm listening. You said cold and flickering lights, right? Has anyone else noticed anything?"

"I only moved in two weeks ago."

"You've checked the electrics?"

"The electrics and plumbing were done before I moved in, and I have a carbon monoxide detector."

"Then why don't I come over tonight? Just look things over with you, put your mind at ease."

* * *

Hartley's house was almost empty. What little furniture there was didn't seem like it was his style. The walls Cisco could explain as Hartley had only been there for a fortnight, he clearly hadn't had time to do everything up yet, but it just looked drab.

Cisco probably shouldn't mention it. It seemed like the sort of thing Hartley wouldn't want him to mention.

But the garden outside was overgrown entirely. The kitchen had a few doors falling off the cupboards. Hartley made them both tea from mugs that probably were his, but nothing else seemed to fit.

"How did you find this place again?" Cisco asked.

"The normal way," Hartley said. "An estate agent showed me and said it would need some work, it's been empty for a while, but because of that it was well below market average."

"Did you ask why it's been empty?"

"They wouldn't say; some confidentiality clause."

"Right. I've never bought a house, so I have no idea if that's right or not, but it seems suspicious. How many bedrooms?"

"Two, but apparently a lot of the others have converted the attics and there's plenty of space up there."

"Two beds. In the suburbs. Nice neighbourhood. Not far from a good school. Quite a big garden. Driveway. And well below market average, so something was stopping it getting snapped up, there's definitely a problem somewhere. The electrics are fine?"

"It had been cut off because it's been empty for so long, so it was all checked while it was being reconnected."

"Right. Maybe I should look too."

"Are you a qualified electrician?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'm obviously not working as a licenced one so I'm not going to do any rewiring or anything for you, but cold and flickering lights, I think the first place to check is your electrics, it might just be a faulty wire or an old bulb, and maybe your heating's not working, so we should double check the plumbing too. Since I'm here anyway."

"Oh, you're a plumber too now."

"My dad is. Taught me everything I know. Plus, there's a lot of plumbing in engineering. Sort of. And you did ask for my help."

"Fine. The fuse box is this way."

* * *

Most of the lights were working perfectly. Except there were extra switches. And a big space upstairs that didn't make any sense. And there was a fuse marked basement in neat, printed handwriting Hartley didn't recognise, and according to Hartley, there wasn't a basement.

"I was really hoping you weren't going to say that," Cisco said. "Okay. It's late and I am not going to try and find your missing basement in the dark, so we are going to stop this and go to bed and tomorrow I am going to find the original building plans. Maybe your basement is flooded and it's causing problems. That's probably it. You've got basement problems and instead of telling you they said you have no basement; you need to complain about this to someone. I have no idea who, but someone. Doctor Wells can probably help you find a lawyer."

"You're probably right. I have a spare bedroom."

Cisco looked at him. Hartley did not like him. But he'd asked Cisco for help and now he was asking him to stay, clearly whatever was going on was scaring him more than he was letting on.

"Sure," Cisco said.

* * *

Cisco noticed Hartley had left his door open. Cisco left his open a crack too. Just in case. Something really was wrong.

And something else woke him up in the middle of the night. Hartley was still asleep, and Cisco didn't want to wake him. His next idea if the basement was fine was Hartley was exhausted. Doctor Wells had been pushing harder and harder now they were just weeks away from the planned switch on date for the accelerator. And if he had just moved into a place with this many problems and was almost certainly as overworked as the rest of them, he had to be incredibly stressed and exhausted, and that was the sort of problem Caitlin was probably better suited to deal with. Maybe he should try and persuade Hartley to take a few days off just for his mental health, Cisco had only worked at S.T.A.R. Labs for a year but during that he hadn't noticed Hartley even take a sick day, let alone a holiday. If Doctor Wells said anything Cisco would argue on his behalf and surely he'd know if Cisco was the one doing that, he really needed to take Hartley seriously and give him a break.

The bed was old and smelt a bit funny. Hartley had given him new sheets, but he would definitely need to invest in a new mattress if he intended on keeping this as a guest room. Though given he'd moved in two weeks ago and Cisco seemed to be the first person to visit and despite Hartley's dislike of him he'd come to Cisco for help, Cisco was assuming Hartley wasn't planning on many visitors. But he'd bought a two-bedroom house with room to add a third.

It was probably the uncomfortable mattress that woke him up.

Except he could hear crying. Maybe Hartley wasn't asleep.

Cisco crept down the corridor. The floorboards squeaked, that was not going to improve Hartley's anxiety.

He knocked on the door. Hartley didn't move. He seemed asleep. Just breathing quietly. Walking over and waking him up was also not going to go down well if he was so certain his house was haunted. If he seemed fine, Cisco would just leave him be. He'd ask what was up in the morning, the crying had stopped anyway.

* * *

Breakfast was quiet. Cisco would have to go home and change before work, if he showed up with Hartley wearing the same clothes as yesterday there were bound to be the sort of questions neither of them wanted to answer.

He kind of didn't want to leave Hartley alone though. He could see the black bags under his eyes now.

"What were you upset about yesterday?" Cisco asked. Hartley blinked at him. "I heard you crying in the middle of the night."

"No," Hartley said.

"You seemed fine when I checked on you, but I just wanted to be sure. Maybe it was just a nightmare?"

"I don't remember having one."

"Maybe I imagined it then. I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Why?"

"Because I heard someone crying in the middle of the night and you're the only other person here? Because you really don't seem all right."

"I'm tired. This was a mistake, I shouldn't have-"

"You wanted help," Cisco said. "It's fine. I still don't get why you called me instead of anyone else, but it's fine. You want help, I can do that, you don't want to talk about it, fine."

"I wasn't crying last night."

"Then maybe I heard someone outside. Or squeaky pipes and my imagination got going because we were talking about ghosts, maybe I was dreaming, there are so many explanations. Look, I really do need to go home and change, but you can come with me if you don't want to stay here alone."

"I'm fine. It's my house. It's pipes."

"It's just the pipes."

* * *

Hartley was his usual snarky self at work. Maybe even more than usual, maybe Cisco should talk to Doctor Wells about giving him a break.

Maybe Cisco should call his dad and see if he could look at Hartley's pipes. That would help. Put his mind at ease. And it had been empty for so long, it really would need a proper going over, the estate agents might have told Hartley they did it already but given the basement fuse and absent basement, and the weird missing space inside, Cisco was assuming they had not done their jobs properly and had probably taken advantage of Hartley a little. Given his general Hartley-ness, Cisco had assumed he'd be a lot more thorough when doing something like buying a house, but Hartley was his age, it was probably his first house. His parents were super rich or something though, so why they hadn't helped, or why Hartley had been looking at the cheapest house he could find in the suburbs instead of somewhere fancier, Cisco wasn't sure, but they could figure it out.

It was probably just the pipes.

Hartley seemed on edge though. Now Cisco was paying attention. Jumping when people came up behind him and flinching at loud noises.

"Hey," Ronnie said. "Caitlin and I were thinking drinks tonight, you in?"

"I've got stuff to do," Cisco said. "Maybe next week?"

"Stuff?"

"Just helping out a friend." Hartley probably wouldn't appreciate Cisco telling Ronnie about the haunted house speculation, especially if it did turn out to be pipes and not ghosts. "It's fine. Next week, I promise, go enjoy yourself with your fiancée."

"Call if your friend needs extra hands," Ronnie said.

"Will do."

Hartley was alone at his desk, as usual. People were giving him a wide berth, as usual.

"Hey," Cisco said. Hartley turned and opened his mouth probably to yell, but he closed it again when he saw it was Cisco. "You still want help with the plans tonight?"

"I would appreciate it."

"I'll ask Dad if he'll help look through your documents too if you want. He knows more about building regulations than I do. Maybe we should get an asbestos test done too, just in case, because I really don't think these estate agents did what they told you. And you should probably see about a surveyor or something too. I actually don't know anything about buying houses, but I feel like someone screwed you over."

"You really think it's just a problem with the house."

"Better safe than sorry, right?"

* * *

Hartley's new neighbour was outside when Cisco parked on the driveway. He seemed surprised to see anyone.

"Hey, you go in," Cisco said. "I'm right behind you."

Hartley nodded and Cisco stepped over to talk to the neighbour.

"They finally shifted the place," the neighbour said. "James Dion."

"Cisco Ramon. I'm just helping Hartley move in. Do you have a basement? I'm assuming the inside layout is all the same, there's a switch on the fuse box marked basement but no way in."

"Should be a door in the kitchen. That one's not exactly the same though, it's a bed short compared to all the others in the road."

"Really? Weird."

"Whole place is weird," Mister Dion said. "Apparently it's been empty since the murder, and there's always weird noises at night."

"Maybe wild animals, considering it's been empty so long," Cisco said. "Thanks for your help."

Mister Dion nodded and Cisco stepped inside. Hartley had already made his way to the kitchen. He could do that at least.

"Your neighbour says he has a basement door in the kitchen," Cisco said. "And three beds upstairs, not just two. Someone must have done some work, that explains the missing space, they must have made a mistake with the dimensions. I'll still look up the plans for you if you want."

"You think they hid a door in the kitchen?"

"It's not impossible," Cisco said. "Or maybe the fuse box is the same as for the rest of the street but they didn't actually put a basement in." He looked around, and his eyes settled on the fridge-freezer. It looked a lot newer than the rest of the kitchen, and unlike everything else in the kitchen, it could easily be moved. "I know where to start at least, give me a hand?"

Hartley nodded and took the other side of the fridge and pushed as Cisco pulled.

A door was bolted behind the fridge. Hartley stepped back.

Mentioning the apparent murder would probably not go down well. But Cisco could go down first, just in case. With a light.

He flipped the switch and nothing happened.

"Have you got a new bulb?" Cisco asked. "If that's out, that might be what's causing the problems with the other lights."

"Yes," Hartley said. "I'll get the step-ladder too."

"Thanks," Cisco said. He accepted the box with the lightbulb in and Hartley wasn't long, they'd left the stepladder in the dining room yesterday anyway. Cisco passed Hartley the torch and stepped downstairs.

There was something squishy under his feet. He couldn't really see what it was. And there was a bad smell coming from somewhere.

Hartley hadn't got past the middle of the stairs. Still, he was shining the light enough Cisco could see enough to change the bulb.

Hartley flipped the light switch as Cisco stepped off the ladder and promptly dropped the torch. Cisco gulped at the complete mess he was standing in.

"Well," Cisco said. "The good news is you don't have ghosts in your basement. Just mice. And if it was sealed in the kitchen, they must have chewed a way to get in and out, so you have a hole somewhere, that could be causing a draft and explain your cold problem."

"Mice did all that?"

"I don't know much about mice," Cisco said. He looked at the clothes strewn across the floor, the broken chair in the corner, and the puddle that probably meant something had started dripping when they reconnected the water, as well as the very obvious pile of scat. "But I'll go with stuff got thrown down here instead of dealt with and the mice decided to move in. Maybe rats too. Let's go back up and call an exterminator, see if they have recommendations."

"An exterminator?"

"We can probably sort out something humane," Cisco said. "It might be that they left again since there's been no food here, but it'll be better to check, and we're going to need a lot of bin bags and bleach down here. Maybe someone to check there aren't holes too, and I'll call Dad about the leak."

"It's quite small," Hartley said. "You don't think..."

"I'll still look for the plans, but I'm sure everything's fine. I'll start clearing up down here if you want."

* * *

Hartley cooked. He'd actually come down into the basement to help Cisco- once Cisco had taken photographic evidence of the state of the basement and had called someone to check there were no living mice or rats- but he'd gone back upstairs to properly cook dinner as thanks. It was far from the fancy sort of food Cisco had expected Hartley to make, but Cisco also hadn't really expected Hartley to be able to cook.

He had showered first. Hartley had lent him some clean clothes. Even his most casual ones were a little too formal for Cisco, but by this point his would probably need throwing away. At least rubber gloves could easily be replaced, and it wasn't like this was his favourite shirt.

And the leak wasn't hard to fix. It just needed some new joints and tightening.

And Hartley seemed a little more relaxed.

"So, what colour are you thinking for the front room?" Cisco asked.

"I don't know," Hartley said. "Green, maybe? I haven't planned that yet."

"Tomorrow's Saturday. If you want help, since the basement is going to need finishing, I could help."

"Do you know all about decorating too?"

"No, but I know how to paint a wall. Unless you're set on wallpaper. And if we get spare parts I can help you fix your cupboards."

"I was just going to find a new kitchen. I haven't got around to it yet."

"Sounds great. Carpet or hard floors?"

"I quite like the wood, but some rugs would be nice. They probably need refurbishing. You solved the not ghost problem, why are you still helping me?"

"Do you want help?"

"I can get by on my own."

"You bought a house with a sealed basement that's had rat problems," Cisco said.

"I like rats."

"Not living in your basement where they can easily get into your kitchen though. But I can leave now."

"I suppose decorating would be easier with two," Hartley said. "And I don't know what I'm doing."

"I'm sure we can figure out the painting at least. I should go."

"It's late," Hartley said.

He still looked tired. And nervous.

"If staying's all right with you, I just didn't want to assume."

"It makes more sense. If you're going to help finish the basement tomorrow and find paints anyway."

"If it makes sense."

* * *

Cisco woke up in the middle of the night again. If he was going to help Hartley decorate, he was definitely going to suggest mattresses. He really hoped Hartley was sleeping on one that was better than this.

He could hear crying again. Maybe there were still mice in the walls. Did mice sound like that? No, it was too loud to be mice. Maybe there was another large animal stuck somewhere. But surely they'd make noise all the time? Or maybe it was from outside. Honestly, he'd probably just been spooked by the neighbour and he was imagining things, telling Hartley really did seem like a bad idea. Maybe they had problems with raccoons in bins, they probably made weird noises and could probably be mistaken for crying in the middle of the night. Maybe someone had a really loud baby.

There was a completely rational explanation for this. Completely rational.

Maybe Cisco could get a drink. That might help.

He walked downstairs and switched the light on. It flickered a few times, but it blinked to life.

The crying was louder downstairs. Weird.

"Hello?"

Cisco spun around. The room was empty. Maybe the wind sounded like voices sometimes.

"Just jumping at nothing," Cisco said. "You've been listening to too many ghost stories."

He walked into the kitchen and the sobbing got louder.

"Okay," Cisco said. "I should find someone to check the gas lines too. Maybe call Caitlin and ask what causes hallucinations."

He turned the tap on and the water groaned before rushing out. Cisco picked the glass up and stepped back into the living room. He shivered at the sudden chill.

"It's December," Cisco said. "Obviously it's cold. That's what happens in the winter. And we haven't checked everywhere for draughts yet. And it's dark, everyone jumps at shadows when it's dark, especially when it's an unfamiliar place."

Cisco took another step forward. Another shadow passed behind him and he turned quickly.

Nothing there.

Just a sheet blowing. He could fold that up and stop it doing that again if Hartley came downstairs.

Cisco lifted the sheet up and uncovered a mirror. An old mirror. And there seemed to be something about it. If he focused-

A face appeared in the mirror and Cisco screamed. He dropped his glass and stumbled back as a streak of light shot past him and he ran back upstairs as fast as he could.

Hartley was standing by his door, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

"I'm guessing you heard me scream?" Cisco asked.

"What?" Hartley asked. He held up a hand and stepped back into his room. He reappeared in seconds. "Can you switch the light on and say that again?"

Cisco flipped the light switch. Hartley's pyjamas were incredibly green.

"What happened to you?" Hartley asked. "Your foot's bleeding."

"It is?" Cisco asked. He looked down. Oh. The glass must have smashed on his foot.

"Come on," Hartley said. He opened the bathroom door and gestured for Cisco to perch on the shut toilet while he ran the hot water and grabbed some cotton wool from the cupboard. "Does it hurt?"

"I didn't even notice," Cisco said. He did wince as Hartley wiped it, but it didn't seem deep. "I dropped a glass. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Not unless you were the one who suddenly made my room really bright."

"Maybe there's a short-circuit in the lights somewhere, or someone outside."

"Maybe. You didn't notice your foot was bleeding."

"It does hurt a little now I've noticed it, but it was fine before."

"But you ran upstairs and you thought you might have woken me."

"I just thought I'd been loud."

"I don't sleep with my hearing aids in, you'd have to have been very loud."

"How long have you had hearing aids?"

"As long as I can remember. I usually wear the ITC ones at work, they're not quite as powerful as my BTE ones but these are old now anyway, and you can't see the other ones, and they're a little easier with my glasses. Why did you drop the glass?"

"Clumsy."

"Cisco."

"I just got spooked. I thought I heard crying again but it's probably just an animal somewhere and there was something I could see moving around out the corner of my eye but that was just a dust sheet flapping around so I picked it up to adjust it and stop it and there was a mirror under it and I thought I saw a face in it and I panicked and dropped the glass, but it was probably just my imagination."

"You saw a face?"

"And you've been talking about ghosts and your neighbour said something about a murder and I was not going to mention that because I have no idea if he was telling the truth, but anyway, it probably just means I was just on edge anyway and my imagination got away from me. Everything's fine, I panicked."

"A murder?"

"But I have no idea if he was telling the truth of not, big empty house on the corner, I'm sure everyone has stories about why it's empty but the real reason is it's a bedroom short compared to all the others, they sealed up the basement instead of dealing with the mice, and the longer it got left the more work got added to the list and the harder it got to sell. We haven't even looked at the mess in the garden. Everything's fine. My foot feels fine. I'll go and clear up the glass now and-"

"That can wait until morning," Hartley said. "You're hurt."

"I'm fine," Cisco said. "Promise. But it will be easier to see in the morning. We should go back to bed."

"If you're anxious already you shouldn't be alone."

"I wouldn't say no to company."

* * *

Hartley's bed was not more comfortable. If anything, it seemed less comfortable. There were definitely some broken springs. That must be it, Hartley had a very uncomfortable bed and hadn't been sleeping enough. And Cisco hadn't had a great sleep the night before, they were on edge because they were tired.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" Hartley asked.

"Not really," Cisco said. "Flickering lights are probably an electrical fault, not ghosts. Scratching in the walls could be mice. Weird noises in the middle of the night are probably an animal. Drafts happen in houses. Walking under a ladder isn't bad luck, it's just common sense not to. All the old stories seemed to have explanations that made more sense. You do though."

"My grandfather died when I was thirteen. I was at boarding school. I woke up in the middle of the night and he was standing at the foot of my bed. Not saying anything or doing anything, just there. And then I switched the light on and he was gone, but I got called into the office the next morning and told he'd died in his sleep. I know, maybe I imagined it, it was right before my eyesight got bad enough I needed reading glasses so it could have just been a shadow, maybe I made the whole thing up afterwards, but..."

"But it felt like he's come to check up on you before he went off wherever you go next," Cisco said. "I could be wrong. You said you sleep with your hearing aids out. If you're more comfortable like that then go for it. If I need to I can find another way to wake you up, but I'm sure everything's going to be fine. We're both just tired."

"Good night, Cisco."

"Good night, Hartley."

* * *

Cisco was warm when he woke up. His neck hurt a little- scratch decorating, the first thing he was going to do was take Hartley to buy a new mattress- but he was warm. And a little squished.

He looked down at the arms wrapped around him. Hartley was clinging on desperately.

He didn't really want to move. Hartley obviously needed the sleep, and the only really important thing was pest control coming to check the place over and that wasn't until ten, and Cisco could handle that, he could let Hartley sleep. And if he stayed still he'd be less likely to disturb him.

Cisco got the feeling Hartley wouldn't be very comfortable if he woke up like this though. He'd probably be uncomfortable about the bed sharing enough as it was, even though it had been his idea, and Cisco should probably at least check his foot over and clean up that glass.

Wiggling out from Hartley's arms was harder than he thought, and for a second it looked like Hartley stirred, but he rolled over and kept his eyes shut. Cisco snuck out the room and headed downstairs.

The sheet was right by the water he'd dropped. He had been holding both of them, and it seemed lucky, because it had soaked up all the water.

Cisco picked up the larger pieces of glass. He'd seen Hartley's dustpan for the smaller pieces.

His foot looked fine. He'd probably just need to keep it covered for a few days. Maybe put some more antiseptic cream on it.

He looked at the mirror a little closer as he walked past. It did seem to have some kind of faint impression on it, that must have been what he'd seen. It did look old.

There was writing on the back too. Faded, and cursive so it wasn't the easiest to read, but Cisco could just about make it out. "Our darling Eileen, Mother and Father", dated 25th June 1932. And then another note, "To Rachel, from Eileen, 25th March, 1954".

"What are you doing?" Hartley asked. Cisco turned around.

"Just looking," he said. He covered the mirror with the sheet again. "It looks old, it's just got impressions on it, maybe it was left in the sun. Old mirrors were backed with silver which was also used in early photography, I wonder if it would be possible to project the impressions out. It says on the back it belonged to someone called Eileen, then she passed it onto someone called Rachel. I thought you were still sleeping."

"There's a lot to do. That wasn't there before."

"It was covered by the sheet. I didn't notice it before; it was only because the wind was blowing the sheet around."

"It wasn't there before."

"Okay. I don't remember moving it, but maybe it was under some of the stuff in the basement? I can put it back in the basement. If there isn't a rat problem, I thought we could go to look at new mattress then paint after that. If you still want help."

"How is your foot?"

"Fine. I think it just grazed it. I'll ask Caitlin on Monday what she thinks if it doesn't improve but it feels fine."

"Good. I'll make breakfast."

* * *

The basement was completely rodent free, which was good. And it was easy to finish clearing it up.

The mirror was easy to move at least. Cisco kept the sheet over it.

He shut the basement door and locked it, just for Hartley's peace of mine.

"Ready to go?"

"I have a list," Hartley said. "And I have done my research. I think instead of picking paint colours today we need test pots to see how they look on the walls and light reflection."

"Good plan. It'll probably feel more like home when you start decorating, I'm sure that will help."

* * *

There were several nice greens for the front room, so small test pots seemed like a good idea. There was a really nice dark green, but it probably wouldn't let enough light in, but a dark green feature wall and the other three as a light green. seemed nice. Maybe wallpaper, but Hartley seemed to be leaning towards just paint. He'd had a look at bathrooms and kitchens too, though they would need a little more work, and would be expensive, but at least Cisco had persuaded him not to leave the shop without a new mattress.

"I should probably go home tonight," Cisco said. "Clean up and everything, my parents are coming over for lunch tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Because I can't invite my parents into a messy house?"

"Why are they coming over?"

"Because they're my parents and they like to see me regularly and I know things are getting busier with the accelerator and I won't have much time for the next few weeks probably so tomorrow works best for me and they're otherwise free and if they come to mine then it means they don't have to cook and it gives me someone else to cook for which is nice sometimes because usually I'm only cooking for myself. You are okay with that?"

"Yes, you should see your family, of course you need to get ready for that."

"You're sure."

"I don't need you worrying about me," Hartley sneered. "I think I can handle myself."

"I'm sure you can," Cisco said. "I'll give your clothes back on Monday."

* * *

He was worried about Hartley though. Lying in his own bed. He'd gone back to his usual Hartley self, but Cisco had actually enjoyed his company while they were looking at paint. And he had asked Cisco for help. Not a friend, or Doctor Wells, or his parents, Cisco.

Still. He said he'd be fine and he didn't want Cisco to worry. Cisco should just leave him be.

He was curious about that mirror though. He could definitely make something.

* * *

Hartley looked awful on Monday. Bags under his eyes again, sniping at anyone that went near him, and by lunch everyone else seemed to have given up.

Cisco stepped into his workspace.

"What?"

"I've got those clothes you lent me," Cisco said. "They're clean."

"I hardly think now is a convenient time."

"Well, here." Cisco put them on the end of Hartley's desk. He waited.

"Was there something else?"

"It's lunch time."

"Good for you, run along then."

"You need to eat?"

"I thought I told you I neither want nor need you worrying about me."

"Too late. Have you slept at all over the weekend?"

"Like you care."

"Unfortunately, it seems I do."

"You couldn't even be bother to move that blasted mirror."

"I thought I put it in the basement? Hartley, I am sorry about that. You haven't slept, have you."

"I don't have to listen to- What are you doing?"

He stepped back from Cisco's slightly raised hand. 

"You don't look well," Cisco said. "Just trust me?"

Hartley froze as Cisco rested the back of his hand on Hartley's forehead.

"You're really hot," Cisco said. He lowered his hand again. "I think you should go home."

"I am fine, you're-"

"Just worried? You're not fine, you're tired, stressed, and now you have a temperature and you're being even more of a dick than usual. Do you ever take care of yourself?"

"I don't get sick."

"Everyone gets sick. Especially when they're tired and stressed."

"I wasn't hallucinating."

"I never said you were."

"You implied it."

"We found one problem, there are probably more."

"Ah, Hartley, Cisco, there you are," Doctor Wells said. "Cisco, I had an idea regarding that project you were asking about."

"Sorry, Doctor Wells, can it wait?" Cisco asked. "Hartley's not well, I think I should take him home."

"Oh. Oh, yes, of course. I'll speak with you later. Feel better soon, Hartley."

* * *

The mirror was on the side again.

"I moved that this morning," Hartley said. "I know I moved that-"

"You are tired, and not feeling well," Cisco said. "It's very easy to forget things when you are tired. I will put the mirror in the basement for now, then I will come back after work to check on you and take it home with me. I'm the one whose interested in the impressions, and it'll get it out your house. Will that help?"

"I'm not s-"

"Come on, upstairs. Are you hungry?"

"What?"

"Soup is easiest if you aren't feeling well."

"I feel fine."

"Your temperature and your face say differently. Come on."

"Why are you looking after me?"

"Someone has to, you're not doing it. Just call it paying you back for helping me with my foot."

"But you were helping before. Why?"

"You asked for help. Why ask me?"

"I don't have anyone else."

"Even more reason for me to do it. I'll move the mirror."

It was still covered by the sheet, but something fluttered to the floor as Cisco lifted it up. Hartley picked it up.

"I suppose neither of us can have moved it if this was still stuck to the bottom," he said. "It's a clipping from a newspaper. Eileen Sutter, accused of murder."

"That might be what your neighbour was on about," Cisco said. "But the mirror's dated from the thirties."

"And the interior of the house is much newer than that, and the second date is later, but it must be more recent than the fifties, or she was accused later in life. But perhaps if the mirror was gifted to someone else they might want it back?"

"Definitely worth a look. I'll come and pick it up again later, you try and get some sleep."

* * *

Hartley looked slightly more rested when Cisco knocked later. He'd stopped and picked up some soup on the way too, hopefully Hartley liked soup.

"I did a little research on Eileen Sutter," he said as they both sat down in the living room. "One of these true crime blogs had a whole page on the Sutters, I don't know how accurate all their information is but the short version is she was married to a man named Ulysses Sutter and he was wanted in connection with at least six murders when they pulled his body out the river. She was arrested though claimed to not have seen him for a few weeks and had assumed he'd run off with someone else. Ulysses' sister Silvia came forward claiming the last time she'd seen him he'd mentioned falling afoul of the Santini family and she'd gone to stay with her sister-in-law for a few days and not seen him during that time, and she hadn't mentioned the Santinis to Eileen as she hadn't wanted to worry her, especially not with her young son, and the case against Eileen was dropped before it even went to trial. There are theories, obviously, but Eileen apparently disappeared a few years later. I suspect it's a far simpler she went back to using her maiden name and moved away, especially if she had a child to consider, but people enjoy theorising I suppose. This all happened in Keystone, not Central, and I looked it up, Holly Drive was built in the fifties, so my house didn’t exist when this was happening. And she gave the mirror to someone else twenty years later, she wouldn't have done that if it was haunted by her serial killer husband."

"Still want me to take it?"

"Just so I know it cannot possibly be in this house. There is so much to do, I noticed all the wallpaper is peeling in the landing upstairs earlier, and there are these big dark splotches on the walls, and all these cracks I keep noticing, I did not factor in enough renovation costs."

"You did look at this place before you bought it."

"Yes, but I didn't notice the problems then. All the walls looked clean but now they're going blotchy, and I hardly think anyone would request to move the fridge just in case there's a basement hidden behind it."

"I really think you should ask for legal advice to see if there's anything you need to do about these estate agents."

"I suppose... My cousin's almost fiancée is a lawyer, but I haven't spoken to her since he died. And I don't know how to start that conversation, and I don't only want to get back in touch because I need her help but also..."

"It's tricky? I'm sorry for your loss. How..."

"Last May."

"I'm sorry. But that is only a few months and you can ask her how she's doing and say here's a thing and you were wondering if she had advice while also seeing how she is and how everything's going for her and make it clear that although you are asking for her advice you're not only talking to her because you need some and you're always there to talk to about your cousin or anything? How close were you before he died? To her."

"We'd met a few times. She seemed nice. I'm not very good with people."

"I couldn't tell," Cisco said flatly and Hartley gave him a very unamused look.

"She's nice though. It would be nice to have a friend instead of being stuck with you."

"Aww, you made a joke, I'm so proud of you."

"I will kick you out of my house."

"Well, I was going anyway."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow."

"Unless you're not feeling well still, in which case you should take another day off."

"I'm sure I'll be fine. Thank you."

* * *

Hartley did seem better. Cisco had put the mirror in his little cupboard and left the sheet over it.

He'd been woken up in the middle of the night by quiet sobs and what sounded like someone asking for help, but Mrs Patel downstairs had recently had twins, maybe Cisco should knock and see if she needed anything.

S.T.A.R. Labs was incredibly busy. Doctor Wells had been planning this for over a decade, Cisco could understand why he seemed so stressed. Everyone was.

And Hartley was off again. There was a week to go and Hartley was off.

Doctor Wells seemed a little confused when Cisco asked him.

"He had a slight incident this morning and informed me he'd be late, though he wasn't sure of exact timings. You two haven't been bickering lately."

"No," Cisco said. "No, he's nice when you get to know him."

"Not many people do. Hartley's had issues ever since his parents-"

"I think he should be the one to tell me that, Doctor Wells," Cisco said. Doctor Wells raised an eyebrow but nodded.

"Yes, you're right, I just worry about him sometimes, especially with everything he's putting on himself at the moment. I'm glad the two of you are finally getting along."

* * *

Hartley was not in by lunch and Doctor Wells seemed concerned. At least until he stepped out the room to answer his phone.

Cisco's own phone buzzed with a text message a few minutes later.

'Hello Cisco, would it be possible for you to look through some figures for me? I was planning on doing it this morning but I'm not going to be in today. Hartley.'

'Sure,' Cisco replied. 'Where abouts?'

'There's a memory stick in the top drawer of my desk, the documents are saved on there.'

'I'll grab them. You ok?'

'I'm at the hospital, being kept in overnight for observation, but I'll be fine.'

'Need me to bring you flowers and grapes?'

'Very funny. I'll be back at work soon.'

'Not too soon. I'll check the figures.'

Cisco didn't mention the flowers hadn't really been a joke.

* * *

Hartley was in two days later. With a cut over his eye and wearing different glasses.

He sat next to Cisco as they went through the figures together.

"Everything's fine," Hartley said. "I was so sure..."

"I mean, I can go over it all again if you want," Cisco said. "But it looks fine and Doctor Wells has had a lot of other people go over this, I'm sure even if he'd somehow missed something Ronnie would have noticed."

"You're right. I think I'm just very anxious at the moment. Mind keeps jumping to the worst possible scenario. Hence ghosts too."

"Makes sense," Cisco said. "For the record though, a concussion does not count as fine. What happened?"

"I fell down the stairs. The carpet at the top rolled up and I tripped over it."

"The carpet?"

"Yet another reason for having hard floors. I think I have a damp problem. But I heard back from my lawyer friend, she says she's fine, I'm not so sure, but she's going to come and stay for a few days, see the accelerator switch on which isn't really her thing but she has a friend who might enjoy a few pictures, just have a break I suppose. I am going to need to go mattress shopping again, you should have said something."

"It was just a couple of nights."

"Still."

"I'm free Saturday. You're going to need help again."

"If you're sure. How is your mirror project coming along?"

"I haven't had much free time, but I've had an idea."

* * *

Cisco was just dropping Hartley home because his head was still a little sore and it was easier for Cisco to give him a lift. That was all.

He did notice Hartley's breath hitch as they stepped inside and something made a weird noise.

"It's something normal," Hartley said. "I put my shoes in the wrong order because I rushed out to the hospital and just didn't notice earlier and that was a very normal house noise."

"Absolutely," Cisco said. The noise had come from upstairs. He walked up to see one of the sheets off wallpaper bulging down the bottom and another peeling away from the wall. Hartley probably wouldn't hear if he yelled, he should go back downstairs. "There's something weird going on with your wallpaper," Cisco said. "Must have been that."

"I was hoping it would last until switch on," Hartley said. "I don't think I have time for a decorator to stop by and I don't know what I'm doing."

"I'm sure if you find one and give them a call they can help you sort it out."

"Hopefully."

"I should go."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah." Cisco nodded and stepped outside.

"Do you like stargazing?" Hartley asked. Cisco turned around again. "I have a telescope. I haven't unpacked it yet and I haven't even looked at the garden, but it's supposed to be a clear night Saturday and if you're offering to help anyway then you could stay? I just, I didn't want you to think this is only- I mean, forget it, it's-"

"That sounds nice," Cisco said. "See you tomorrow, Hartley."

* * *

Hartley’s telescope was wrapped very carefully in the boxes he hadn’t managed to unpack yet. It wasn’t a big or fancy telescope, but he clearly treasured it as he set it up outside. It was cold, but Cisco had brought his coat, and the sky was clear. Hartley had found some blankets for them too.

It hadn’t been hard to find another mattress. And they’d ordered food.

“I haven’t done this for years,” Hartley said. “I almost applied to NASA once, I wanted to be an astronaut.”

“You could have been.”

“No, I didn’t check but I assumed my hearing and eyesight would fail a medical exam. Besides, I have a reason to stay on Earth. But just imagine being up there with the stars.”

“They are beautiful,” Cisco said. “Was the telescope when you were thinking about joining NASA?”

“It was a gift from an old boyfriend,” Hartley said. He glanced at Cisco and Cisco didn’t say anything. “He found it second hand, but it was perfect.”

“It’s important to you.”

“Yes.”

“Is he still...”

“No, no, this was back in college. Well, he’s still a friend though I haven’t properly spoken to him since Tommy... Roderick is someone I care about very much and I met him at a rather bad point in my life, perhaps ironically through Earl who was a different ex who was at least part of the cause of the bad point, and he helped me but we were at different points in our lives and couldn’t quite find a way to make it work. We’re better as friends. He has a new partner he seems very happy with and I am happy for him and I’m not good with relationships or being close to people.”

“I’m sure you’ll meet a nice man one day and settle down, if that’s what you want.”

“Maybe. Who knows. Um. It should be dark enough now, we can…”

“Lead the way.”

* * *

Hartley knew so much about the stars. He knew all the names and constellations and myths the constellations came from, and Cisco was content just sitting listening to him talk with such wonder and joy in his voice. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Hartley so happy.

It was freezing and late by the time one of them looked at the time.

“Oh,” Hartley said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise…”

“This has been really nice,” Cisco said. “You don’t need to apologise.”

“Still, we should get some sleep.”

“Yeah.” Cisco looked back at Hartley’s house and frowned. That was not the right number of windows.

Something flashed behind one of them.

“You saw that too,” Hartley said.

“Yeah,” Cisco said. “Maybe another bulb?”

“We checked all the electrics. And I do not have those curtains in any of my rooms.”

“Okay,” Cisco said. “Your neighbour said they had three rooms, not two, that was one of the problems with this place, right? So maybe someone did a really shitty job extending the other two rooms and didn’t take out the electrics to the third room which we can’t get in and that lightbulb has been causing the flashing light problems?”

“I think one hidden room was too many, two is not good.”

“No, that is weird. But given the basement and your landing, we know someone didn’t exactly take a huge amount of care with the work they did on this house, I’m honestly surprised your roof doesn’t have any leaks.”

“I’m going to need someone to look at the roof too, aren’t I.”

“Might be a better safe than sorry situation.”

“Fantastic. Do you want to stay? I swear I was going to offer the spare room before we saw the flashing lights, it is late.”

“Yeah, I can stay. Probably be better than driving home. If that’s okay?”

“It’s always okay.”

* * *

Cisco barely saw Hartley there was so much to do the next week. But he was planning on meeting him after switch on, meet with Hartley’s friend, see how everything was going.

He woke up in a hospital bed with his father sitting next to him.

“Gentle, Cisco,” his dad said. “Gentle.”

“Ronnie,” Cisco said. “Ronnie was inside, I shut him inside, he was-”

“None of it was your fault. None.”

“Where’s Ronnie?”

“I’m sorry. Ronnie didn’t make it.”

“But I shut-”

“You did your best.”

“I should have been the one, he’s supposed to be getting married and I-”

“Hush now, mijo. You were hurt very badly, you need rest. Nothing was your fault.”

* * *

Cisco was extremely lucky not to have any permanent brain damage, according to the doctors. He’d been blown across the room when the accelerator had gone up. If Ronnie hadn’t done what he’d done everyone in S.T.A.R. Labs would have died.

People across the city had died. Thousands had been injured. Cisco had broken his leg, he was going to be on crutches for a while. But he was alive, and it could have been so much worse. Doctor Wells had broken his back according to Caitlin. She’d just stopped by to see how Cisco was. Her own arm was in a sling but that wasn’t what was hurting the most.

He didn’t know how to tell her he’d shut the door on Ronnie.

He had to come back for a check-up in a few days, he wasn’t allowed to drive because of his head- not that he could anyway- and if he noticed anything unusual he had to get someone to bring him back. His dad was insisting on Cisco staying at home for a few days.

“Do you know if Hartley Rathaway is here?” Cisco asked. “Caitlin didn’t say anything about him when she visited, I didn’t know...”

“Let me check something,” Doctor Ambress said. “I’ll be right back.”

She left the room and Cisco’s dad rested his hand on Cisco’s shoulder.

Doctor Ambress really wasn’t long.

“He’s just down the hall,” she said. “Room 302. You can stop in and see him on your way out.”

“Thank you,” Cisco said.

* * *

Cisco’s dad waited outside, but he did hold the door open for Cisco. This was going to take some getting used to.

Hartley was sitting in bed. There was a woman sitting next to him with a pen in her hand and she smiled.

“Cisco!” Hartley said. “Are you okay? This is my friend Laurel, the lawyer one I told you about.”

She waved.

“She’s hurt her throat and isn’t supposed to speak for a few days,” Hartley said. “But that’s fine because I can’t hear anything anyway, my aids broke and my ears haven’t stopped ringing and I need a new prescription. But it’s fine, Laurel’s writing everything, you have crutches and no paper. Oh.”

“Maybe I should learn sign language,” Cisco said. Hartley frowned. So much for being excellent at lip reading.

Laurel showed Hartley a page in her notebook. His eyes watered.

“You would do that for me?” he asked.

Laurel turned the page to Cisco. “He’s on a lot of drugs” was written under what Cisco had just said.

“That makes sense,” Cisco said. Laurel flipped over to another page. She’d clearly made notes for Hartley when the doctor had been. Including when he’d get new hearing aids. Only a couple of days. “I’ll come back then.”

Laurel nodded and smiled. She’d look after him. And Cisco should probably get home before his mother started worrying even more than she probably already was.

* * *

There is a difference between choosing to sit down and out your feet up and being told to sit down and put your feet up and not do anything else. Cisco was in the second category.

To put it simply, he was bored.

Technically he still had a job. For now. Doctor Wells was still in the hospital and S.T.A.R. Labs had been closed off so he was assuming once his leg was better and he could work again he’d have to find a new job, but he could cross that bridge when he got to it. The doctor had said at least two months with his leg in a cast. Which also meant two months of rest and staying off his feet as much as possible. Which- because his parents were worried about him- meant months staying at home with them and Dante without anything to do.

Learning sign language could occupy his mind though. And it was a useful skill. Not just for talking to Hartley. Cisco was mostly thinking about Hartley. He decided not to dwell on his first knitting thoughts being that he could knit Hartley a nice scarf. That deep green yarn his abuela had given him was so soft though, and Hartley would love the colour.

She was right- as always- though. Knitting would give him something to do that didn’t involve standing. She’d only stayed for one night before heading back to Detroit, just to see if everyone really was okay, but she had left Cisco with knitting needles and a book. And had taught him basic stitches. He probably had a few model building sets somewhere he could dig out too. Things to do with just his hands. Cisco had always liked having busy hands.

He’d mostly been texting with Hartley. It was easier. Caitlin too, but she hadn’t really been replying. He’d gone to the memorial service. Caitlin’s mother hadn’t. Cisco was pretty sure Caitlin hadn’t told her she was seeing someone, let alone that she was engaged. Only now Ronnie was gone and Cisco had sat there watching Caitlin and Ed Raymond mourn and known it was his fault. The accelerator had vaporised Ronnie’s body so they didn’t even have anything to bury and Cisco had been the one who shut the door.

Caitlin deserved better than the person responsible for her heartbreak as a friend, but Cisco wasn’t sure if she was talking to anyone else. Maybe that old friend she’d mentioned a few times, Ramsey, but Caitlin didn’t have a huge number of friends. Just a few. The least Cisco could do was offer himself as a shoulder to cry on.

He was really glad when Hartley suggested he drop by to meet Laurel properly this time though. Or rather, his dad was dropping Cisco off and he’d get picked up at some point. Or dropped off. Cisco wasn’t actually sure if Hartley could drive or not, he’d always got the bus to work. Cisco should probably ask if Hartley could drive.

It was so nice to be sitting in a different armchair.

Laurel Lance was a lawyer in Starling City. She’d also had a rather bad time over the past few years really. Cisco didn’t ask for details. She seemed nice though. Still having a few throat issues- the doctors hadn’t even been sure what had happened and they’d been so overrun- but mostly that had recovered. She just kept getting hoarse, but she’d be fine. Hartley’s ears were still ringing but his new hearing aids were helping. They were ITE ones, Hartley said, sitting in his ears, more visible but more powerful and perhaps a little fiddlier but he’d thought they’d be easier with his glasses. Cisco was still going to keep going with learning sign language. He wasn’t sure if Hartley remembered that or not but still.

“How’s the upstairs wall?” Cisco asked.

“Still bulging and cracking,” Hartley said. “I spoke with a decorator, they said it looks like it wasn’t prepared properly before plastering and either the plaster was dried too quickly or not dried properly before wallpapering so the wallpaper is falling off again. He also said it seems like it was done recently by someone who didn’t know what they were doing.”

“But at least you know it’s an issue you can fix. What about the patchy bits?”

“Those are ghosts.”

“What?” Cisco asked and Hartley laughed.

“Apparently, it’s called ghosting, it’s caused by cold or damp or sometimes dirt in the walls, but because I mentioned mice and also the house has been empty for so long, it’s apparently worth getting the insulation checked out because you can cover up the marks but if you don’t solve the root problem they come back. So, my house does have ghosts, they’re just caused by mice. He said most of the walls actually seem fine, maybe there are some bits that need filling and a few which need some work but the only really bad one is that one upstairs.”

“So, you got the type of ghost wrong.”

“Looks that way. But it’s an issue that can be fixed, unlike my brand-new issue of the estate agent gave me the wrong details.”

“How wrong?”

“They claimed to be working for Fox and Sons,” Laurel said. “Which I have been researching and they shut down three years ago.”

“Then does Hartley even-”

“That was the first thing I checked, and all the correct paperwork was filled in, it’s just the third parties, the estate agent and the solicitor who looked through everything I can’t find. Next time call me sooner.”

“Doctor Wells gave me his contact details; I need to let him know if you think there were problems with that too,” Hartley said.

“And the previous owner is apparently someone named Gideon Garrick and I can’t find any other records,” Laurel said. “I’ll keep looking. Do you remember what the fake estate agent looked like? If it was a private sale, they presumably have some connection with Garrick.”

“Young,” Hartley said. “Maybe around my age but he looked young. Brown hair. Blue eyes? Maybe green. Or light brown? Whichever, they were nice eyes. Tall. I’d know him again if I saw him.”

“I have a friend who might be able to help,” Laurel said.

* * *

Cisco hadn’t expected Doctor Wells to call. And he really hadn’t expected Doctor Wells to call saying his job was still safe. Or that he planned on getting back to work as soon as possible to try and help the city recover.

Not yet though. Doctor Wells had been paralysed and was in a wheelchair and was already planning on going back to work and Cisco kind of felt like maybe he should too, if Doctor Wells could do all that then what difference did one broken leg make, but both his parents and Hartley and Caitlin had said he should rest it until it was actually recovered. In the meantime, Hartley and Caitlin were keeping him updated on the state of the lab and what was going on. Almost no one had accepted Doctor Wells’ offer to carry on, according to Hartley, it was just the two of them, three when Cisco was back on his feet. At least he was back in his own apartment. With regular visits from his parents and Hartley. His mother really liked Hartley. Cisco did not think too much into why he was so glad about that.

But with Hartley so busy, it meant he hadn’t had much time for house repairs. It took until January for him to actually book the plasterer. And given how busy he was, he wasn’t expecting to be in, so Cisco had offered. He wouldn’t be much help, but it was something he could do, because he had almost finished that scarf and hadn’t got anymore yarn yet.

“You’ve had no luck finding a Garrick yet?” Cisco asked.

“Laurel found a couple living in Keystone, but no Gideons, and I don’t recognise any of the pictures,” Hartley said. “But it makes sense that it was a fake name, and I know Laurel’s been busy lately. Some issues with the Starling Mayor and possible corruption, I think she’s been distracted by that.”

“She did seem like she was going through something when she was here before,” Cisco said. A crash came from upstairs and they both cringed. “That can’t be good.”

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Hartley said. He headed up the stairs.

And didn’t come back down.

“Hartley?” Cisco asked. He probably wouldn’t hear Cisco calling.

And another crash followed.

Walking up the stairs would not be Cisco’s smartest idea, but Hartley might need him. He could find a way. Maybe sit down and push himself up? He had to get up there somehow. He had to.

Hartley was standing staring at where the wall had been bulging last time Cisco had managed to get upstairs. Only not there was just a big pile of plaster on the floor and a hole.

“Hartley?” Cisco asked. He stood next to Hartley and stared at what was not just a hole in the wall.

“I don’t think I want to open it,” Hartley said.

“It does explain the weird dimensions and that window we saw.”

“Someone hid the basement, I do not know why they wanted to hide this room too,” Hartley said. “What are you doing up here?”

“I wanted to make sure you were all right. Do you want me to open it?”

“No, I would like to invent a time machine and buy a different house,” Hartley said. “But we can’t just leave it closed.” Hartley pushed the door and it creaked open.

It was full of boxes, but clearly a child’s bedroom. There was a bed with sheets decorated with rockets and stars, the empty bookshelves had dinosaur bookends, and the curtains matched the bedsheets. Cisco couldn’t get through to the window with his crutches, but he was fairly sure it was the window they’d seen from the garden.

He flicked the light switch. That came on with no problem, no flickering, but they should still check. There was a lamp, maybe that had recently blown? If it had been left on after the room had been plastered over.

The desk and chair were slightly higher, enough Cisco could have comfortably sat, but from the look of the room, the child who had previously owned it couldn’t have been that old. Unless it just hadn’t been redecorated.

“This is not right,” Hartley said.

“No,” Cisco said. “No, I think you need to sell this house and leave.”

“I can’t.”

“I know, I can’t imagine anyone buying this place with sealed off rooms and literally falling to pieces walls, but Hartley, this is incredibly wrong, you-”

“Can’t. It was the only place I could afford a deposit for, and I need a house. I need a house, I need a job, I need to be perfect.”

“You could get a job at any lab you want,” Cisco said. “You know that. That’s why you’re staying at S.T.A.R. Labs, you think you have to be perfect?”

“You can’t judge me for staying, you’re staying.”

“I’m not judging you,” Cisco said. “I’m staying because I want to try and fix what we did, I fix things, it’s what I’ve always done, I have to find a way to fix this too. Hartley, you don’t have to be perfect.”

“I do. I do, because if I’m not they’ll pick holes in everything and I have to prove I’m better than them, that she’ll be better with me than with them, I can look after her better than they can.”

“Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not. It’s not, they won’t let Jerrie live in a place like this, and they have all the money and I don’t, they’ll just throw me out again.”

“Who will? Hey, Hart, hey.” Cisco took hold of him. No, bad idea, he needed that, ow his leg, he- “Hart, I really don’t want to interrupt your freak-out, but I really need to sit down, I don’t want to do it in here.”

Hartley nodded and took hold of Cisco’s arm and helped him out into his room to sit on his bed.

“Thanks,” Cisco said. “Okay. Sit next to me and tell me who Jerrie is.”

“My sister,” Hartley said. “She’s my sister.”

“And you said they’ll throw you out again. You said this was the only place you could afford. What happened with your parents?”

“I was seventeen,” Hartley said. “That was when I met Earl. He said he was okay with us hiding. He said he didn’t mind. But he did mind, and he did something in public and they found out and I thought it was just an accident, but I found out later it wasn’t and Earl, he… It got in a tabloid, it was none of their business, but they found out.”

“Your parents found out about the two of you. And they disapproved?”

“I know their love is conditional. I know I never had it. I was already a disappointment, this was the final nail in the coffin, I just thought I could just hide it until Jerrie was old enough she could come with me.”

“You were outed and your parents threw you out,” Cisco said. Hartley nodded and Cisco balled his fists. “And they’re why you were insistent on using hearing aids no one could see, aren’t they? That’s why they called you a disappointment?”

“None of that matters now,” Hartley said. “There’s a big gap between me and Jerrie. She turned thirteen a few months ago.”

“You would have been hiding for years.”

“My sister is worth it,” Hartley said. “Don’t you have a brother?”

“Dante’s older than me,” Cisco said. “And we haven’t seen eye to eye for a long time. It’s not important right now, we’re talking about Jerrie.”

“They wouldn’t let me have any contact with her after I was disowned. No one in my family would talk to me, except Tommy. Our mothers were sisters, and his mother died when he was young, and he agreed to keep an eye on Jerrie for me. Sometimes he would slip her letters and birthday cards from me, but he lived in Starling, he didn’t see her that often. And then he died last year. He was in the Glades. I assume you heard about the attack by Malcolm Merlyn?”

“I think everyone did.”

“Tommy died. I don’t know what he was doing there or what happened, I just know he died, and his own father caused it. And I miss him, I do.”

“But he was also the only link to your sister,” Cisco said.

“They blocked my number. If I try calling from a public phone someone else answers and I get told they don’t want anything to do with me. Jerrie’s autistic. Tommy said she’s mostly non-verbal.”

“And you know how they treated you, and you’re worried about her. You love her, you want to see her again, and you want to be able to give her somewhere to live if you’re not happy about how they treat her.”

“They have enough money they can just pay off social services. No one ever asked questions about me. I am not ashamed of who I am. They were wrong. It’s just hard sometimes to accept that and it feels like if I let myself be happy, I’m one step away from Jerrie. That if I let myself get close to people then they’ll hurt me and send me away or leave and I know I’m going to let you down, I shouldn’t have-”

“People aren’t meant to be alone,” Cisco said. “And I’m not going anywhere. I can’t promise I never will, you know that, but I’m here. And I will help you with whatever you need, okay? We’ll get this house ready and perfect and I will vouch for you that you have done so much just to try and see her again and at least they need to let you visit.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my friend. Because I care about you. I’m here, Hartley, and I’m staying.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

Going back in that room could wait. And they had already planned on Cisco staying so he would be in to talk to the plasterers. But it would probably be better not to leave Hartley on his own after that day.

And there were noises coming from somewhere again. It was the middle of the night, Cisco absolutely should not go exploring, it was probably just an animal.

It did seem to be coming from that bedroom though.

Cisco stepped in and switched the light on. A streak of light flew past him and almost knocked him back. What the-

The light had switched off again. Cisco flipped the switch, and nothing happened. Yeah, he should not be in here.

“Hello?” Cisco asked. “Is someone there?”

It was probably just the wind. But it sounded like someone shouting at him.

“What?”

The streak of light charged him again. Cisco fell backwards and dropped his crutches.

And the main light flickered on again. Whatever that streak was, it had gone. Cisco grabbed his crutches and stood up again. This would not help Hartley at all.

A piece of paper seemed to be under the desk. Cisco picked it up. It looked like the end of a research paper maybe. And there was a name in the top corner.

That could be helpful.

* * *

Cisco was fairly sure telling Hartley he thought he’d seen a ghost in Hartley’s house would be bad. But also, he owed Hartley the truth.

He’d tell him when he got home from work. Hopefully, Cisco would know slightly more by then. Maybe. It depended on how useful this one piece of paper actually was.

The paper was definitely the end of something. But it did have some more details by the page number. Just a surname and first initial, B. Allen, but that was a start. And he could assume he’d have something to do with Central. Maybe something to do with a Garrick too. Or maybe he could just search for any records of Allens and Garricks in Central.

He did not expect to find a wedding certificate. Dated 25th March 1954, for Bartholomew Allen and Rachel Garrick. Rachel like the mirror. Which meant Eileen Sutter was connected to them somehow.

Cisco kept looking. Rachel Garrick’s birth certificate said she was born in 1932, to Jason and Abigail Garrick.

Cisco’s phone buzzed. Hartley. Plasterers had had to cancel, he was really sorry, he could come back to take Cisco home or whatever. He had given Cisco a spare key.

He’d be fine. Hartley didn’t mind him waiting and it was a change of scenery. He had his laptop and the start of an investigation.

Nothing came up when he searched for Bartholomew Allen’s birth records. Definitely had some investigating to do.

* * *

Cisco hadn’t really been expecting a knock if the plasterers weren’t coming. But Laurel was at the door.

She looked a mess.

“Oh,” she said.

“Hi,” Cisco said. “Hartley’s at work, I was supposed to be waiting for the plasterers for him but there was an accident this morning when they were on their way, apparently they’re fine, maybe a slight concussion, but the van is not fine. I don’t know when he’ll be back, but he won’t mind if you want to wait here, and I’d like company.”

“I-”

“I’m also not really supposed to be on my feet for long, so it’s probably best if you come in so I can sit.”

Laurel nodded and stepped in and shut the door behind her. She more perched than sat and Cisco pulled out his phone to text Hartley.

Hartley replied quickly.

“He says he’ll be home mid-afternoon, apparently Doctor Wells and Caitlin have something to do later they don’t need him for, but he says hi and of course he doesn’t mind you being here.”

“Oh,” Laurel said. She seemed slightly out of it.

“Want to talk about it?” Cisco asked.

“Not really,” Laurel said.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You don’t want to talk about it, I’m not going to push you. We’ve only met a few times. And you probably came to talk to Hartley, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. I think I found a Garrick by the way.”

“You did?”

“Maybe. Rachel Garrick, she was born in 1932 so I’m guessing she’s not the one we’re looking for, but there was a mirror here given to someone called Rachel from someone called Eileen and a newspaper article about her, we think she’s Eileen Sutter. And it was given to her by her parents, so they must be linked, but so far all I’ve got is her marriage certificate to someone called Bartholomew Allen. I haven’t found anything else about him yet. And according to Hartley’s blog, no one knows what happened to Eileen Sutter. But also, he only read the one page, I don’t know how much other research went into it or anything.”

“You could try going the other way. See if you can find other records for Eileen.”

“Oh, good plan,” Cisco said. “Did you say you had a friend who knew how to do this?”

“He won’t listen to me. Not now.”

“Then we have a few hours to until Hartley gets back, I’m sure we can keep looking.”

* * *

Hartley looked exhausted when he opened the door. Cisco really did not want to show him what they’d found. Not after last night.

“Hi,” he said. “Hi, Laurel.”

“Hi,” Laurel said. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Hartley said. “Slight migraine, that’s all, it’ll pass. Harrison and Caitlin had a meeting so I had nothing else to do and came home. Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Want to talk?”

“No,” Laurel said. Cisco shook his head.

“All right. I’m so sorry, Cisco.”

“Not your fault,” Cisco said. “It’s not like I had anything else to do today.”

“You don’t look okay either.”

“Well,” Cisco said. “It’s not all bad. Do you want the good news first?”

“What’s the good news?”

“The good news is we found out Eileen Allen’s daughter in law was named Rachel Garrick.”

“Allen?”

“We can’t find a birth certificate for her son, but we did find a record of Eileen Cohen marrying Patrick Allen in 1945, and her son was definitely born before that because Bartholomew Joseph and Rachel got married on the 25th March 1954, same date as is on the mirror. We also found out Eileen Sutter’s maiden name was Cohen, her parents were Eoin and Miriam Cohen, and she had a son named Bartholomew Joseph. Who was born less than a year after she got married even though she got married at nineteen and Ulysses Sutter was twenty-five and I know it was in the past but also he did murder a lot of people so I’m pretty sure he was not a good person and that does make me a little concerned about the age gap. Bartholomew and Rachel were also young, but they were the same age at least.”

“Right,” Hartley said. “Which means you either found a relative to give the mirror to, or we can assume if whoever it was used Garrick they’re somehow connected to them and don’t want anything to do with it.”

“Yeah, exactly. Actually, I found out they had a son named Henry who lived here in this house and who is currently in Iron Heights because he murdered his wife in this room. Ta dah.”

“Oh.”

“And we tried calling Iron Heights, you know, see if he has any relatives who want this mirror, only we didn’t get through, which makes sense I guess, we left a message, but the newspaper article mentions Henry and Nora having a son and I’m guessing he’d be around our age now? And I guess it isn’t unreasonable to assume he might have changed his name too, maybe to Garrick or something else? I have no idea why seal off his bedroom or hide the basement but maybe he just really wanted to finally get rid of it.”

“Right.”

“Also, I did see something weird last night in that bedroom, but I was probably imagining things, or the light didn’t work as well as we thought, could be anything. Actually, thinking about it, chances are Doctor Allen has no idea where his son is right now, if someone murdered my mother in front of me I wouldn’t want anything to do with them.”

“You found out there was a murder in my house, and you decided to phone the person who did it.”

“Yes.”

“And you saw something weird.”

“A little bit weird. Flickering lights weird. Maybe the bulb blew.”

“My head hurts way too much to deal with that right now.”

“We’ll talk about it later.”

* * *

Hartley had persuaded Laurel to head upstairs to the guest room to get some sleep before dinner, she seemed like she needed it. And he’d drawn the curtains and Cisco had switched a lamp on so he could turn the main lights off.

“Is this because of your ears?” he asked.

“I think it’s just a migraine,” Hartley said. “But it’s not helping. I’m just stressed.”

“Yeah. Wish I could help.”

“You are. Just talking to you helps.” Hartley’s phone rang and he cringed. “And if that’s the same number who have been calling me all day-”

“Pass it here,” Cisco said. “You spoke with the plasterers.”

“They know to either text or e-mail, and I’m the one who said I’d rather they get fully checked out and I can rebook for another day. It’s some mobile.”

“I’ll sort it out, you go take your painkillers.”

Hartley smiled and passed Cisco his phone. He wandered towards the kitchen.

“Hello?” Cisco said.

“Hi,” a man said. “Is that Hartley Rathaway?”

“It’s Cisco on behalf of Hartley, who’s speaking?”

“It’s Oliver.”

“Oliver who?”

“Queen.”

“Oliver Queen. Okay, and who is it really?”

“Oliver Queen. Is Laurel with you?”

“She’s resting right now,” Cisco said. “Could you not have called her?”

“She left her phone in Starling. She’s not well.”

“Who is it?” Hartley asked. He sat back down next to Cisco. It would be easy for Cisco to put an arm around him. Maybe later.

“Oliver Queen, apparently,” Cisco said.

“Ask him how he got my number because I certainly didn’t give it to him.”

“Hartley wants to know how you got his number,” Cisco said.

“A friend of mine,” Oliver Queen said. “I know Laurel’s been talking to him recently, has she said anything to him about Sebastian Blood, or her job, or the drinking?”

“He wants to know if Laurel’s mentioned someone called Sebastian Blood or her job or drinking,” Cisco said. Hartley shook his head. “No.”

“But she’s with you, she’s safe.”

“Yes.”

“I think it might be best if she stays for a few days. I think someone’s been in her apartment, all the windows are smashed, and all the glass, and given what happened with Dinah yesterday… Can you tell her I’m sorry? I shouldn’t have lied to her about Sara, I should have encouraged Sara to tell her when she got back to Staring, I made a mistake.”

“I’ll tell her,” Cisco said. “When she wakes up.”

“Thank you. And thank Hartley too.”

“I will,” Cisco said. The phone clicked. “If Laurel doesn’t wake up before I leave, Oliver Queen wants her to know he’s sorry, he shouldn’t have lied about Sara, he should have encouraged her to visit Laurel when she got back to Starling, he made a mistake. Also, he thinks she should stay in Central for a few days because someone might have broken into her apartment and something happened with someone called Dinah yesterday.”

“Sara’s alive?” Hartley asked.

“Who’s Sara?”

“Laurel’s sister. Oliver was Tommy’s best friend. You know he was stranded on an island?”

“Yes. I think everyone does.”

“Sara was with him on the boat. Only he was dating Laurel at the time.”

“So, he cheated on her with her sister. Gross.”

“And then they both died. I know Tommy mentioned before that it was really hard for Laurel because she didn’t feel like she was allowed to be hurt because they were both dead, everyone was in mourning, and her sister and her boyfriend just died but at the same time she just found her boyfriend and sister were sleeping together behind her back. But if they’re both alive, especially if Sara had a way to tell her and chose not to, no wonder she’s upset. I also know from Tommy that Laurel’s parents split up because of what happened to Sara and she never really said but he knew she always felt second best. Like Sara was the only daughter that mattered.”

“She’s not okay.”

“No. Are you?”

“Me?”

“Caitlin told me you were down by the Pipeline with Ronnie. Cisco.”

“He told me to shut it. I know he saved so many people and he told me to do it, but I shouldn’t have, I should have thought of something, I should’ve gone in instead of him, and I haven’t even been brave enough to tell Caitlin I’m the reason she lost the love of her life.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I should have done more.”

“I don’t know if there’s any more you could have done. You went over the figures with me, everything looked fine. And you said yourself, we weren’t the only one who checked those. Doctor Wells did, Ronnie did, so many people.”

“I can’t keep lying to her, but if I tell her, she’ll hate me.”

“I don’t think she will. Caitlin is hurting, but you’re her friend. She cares about you. She’ll understand.”

“I don’t know how.”

“I’ll help you. If you want.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

* * *

The plan was Hartley would drive him home after his migraine had lessened. And then they’d both fallen asleep.

Cisco woke up first. With Hartley’s head on his shoulder. At first he’d thought he was hungry.

And then he heard the crying again and someone upstairs. It was Laurel. Of course it was Laurel, after when Oliver had said he’d be surprised if she hadn’t been crying.

Hartley probably needed the sleep. Cisco managed to get upstairs before.

He eased himself out from under Hartley and grabbed his crutches.

Laurel was standing on the landing. In front of that bedroom door. Something inside was making a noise and they could see from under the door that the light was flashing.

Something was banging as well. And ringing.

Laurel looked at him and Cisco nodded. She opened the door and that bolt of light flew at them.

Laurel screamed. Cisco was pretty sure he did too, but his scream didn’t send a wave of force that sent the bolt of light flying.

Footsteps came running up the stairs.

Hartley wasn’t alone.

And the lights shut off.

Static electricity was building in the air. Laurel had a glass, and the contents were floating up.

A yell of something came from somewhere and the lights flashed on again.

The streak was flying around the room now.

“I told you so,” Hartley said.

“Can we not do that when I am incapable of running away?” Cisco asked. Hartley backed into Cisco as the streak surrounded them and linked his arm through Cisco’s.

“Why would you come upstairs?”

“I heard Laurel.”

“Just stay behind me.”

“What are you planning on doing?”

“Can the lovers quarrel wait too?” Laurel asked.

“Just leave me,” Cisco said.

“Never,” Hartley said.

Something went flying out the person with Hartley’s hand and across the room. There was the sound of glass shattering.

“I’m not going to let you hurt Barry again!” she yelled.

The lightbulb shattered and the room was plunged into darkness.

The light shot through the wall and vanished.

“I’m going to have a panic attack,” Hartley said.

“I need to call Dad,” the woman said. She walked across the room to pick up the thing the light had thrown.

“How did you do that?” Cisco asked Laurel. “The boxes-”

“I don’t know,” Laurel said. “I don’t- It happened before, at home, I shouted and everything around me broke, I- I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“It’s okay,” Hartley said. “Um. Cisco. That was in your house.”

“What?” Cisco followed to where Hartley was pointing. The mirror was on the desk. The mirror Cisco knew was in his house. “That- Ha- Um- Okay. Okay. Hartley. You are going to move in with me.”

“Yeah,” Hartley said. “Yeah, that sounds great, except that was in your apartment which means the ghost was too.”

“That wasn’t a ghost,” the woman said.

“I know you,” Laurel said.

“Iris West. You’re the lawyer from Starling who got the train with Barry, right? Laurel? You talked to Professor Martin Stein too, Detective Thawne needs to talk to you, he hasn’t been seen since he got off the train. That wasn’t a ghost, that was the man who murdered my best friend’s mother.”

“He must have broken into mine and stolen the mirror,” Cisco said. “That makes much more sense. Oh, that’s worse, actually. But he went through the wall.”

“I don’t understand either,” Iris said. “I just know what Barry’s told me.”

“Wait. Barry. Is this his?” Cisco passed Iris the paper he’d found and she skimmed it.

“This is the end of his dissertation,” she said. “I think. Where did you get this, what do you want with him?”

“It was under the desk last night,” Cisco said.

“Barry hasn’t been in this house since he was eleven. You phoned his father asking about him less than an hour before Doctor Harrison Wells showed up at the hospital claiming to be the only one who can save him.”

“Save him?” Laurel asked. “What happened?”

“He got struck by lightning. He’s in a coma.”

A knock came from somewhere and Cisco looked at Hartley. He’d assumed Hartley had knocked against the desk.

There was someone in the mirror. A woman with red hair, only visible from the shoulders up, but Cisco could see the top of the blood stain in the centre of her chest. He would have assumed he was imaging things, except now she was waving at him.

Cisco toppled backwards. Hartley was immediately at his side.

“G- G-”

He pointed and Hartley joined him on the floor.

“Nora?” Iris asked. She waved and said something. It sounded like gibberish.

It sounded like what Cisco had heard the night before.

“If this is some kind of trick you’re-”

“Hartley and Cisco wouldn’t do that,” Laurel said. “We only found out what happened today, we hadn’t seen a picture, and I had no idea that Barry had anything to do with any of this.”

“Then explain that.”

“It’s ghosts,” Hartley said. “I told you it was ghosts, I need to find a new house, I can’t persuade them this is safe for Jerrie.”

Nora said something else. She looked desperate.

“Barry,” Iris said. Nora nodded. “I wish I had better news. His burns and cuts have healed, and his bones are healing quickly, faster than they expected, but he’s not shown any signs of waking up. He keeps having seizures and his heart keeps stopping and because of them they haven’t been able to complete the scans they need yet. They expect he has some kind of brain damage, the lightning threw him back against the chemical shelves in the crime lab, it’s one of their explanations for why he won’t wake up, but because they can’t do an MRI or CT scan they don’t know. They asked Dad if maybe he should start thinking about life support soon. Not switching it off, just not resuscitating him after his next seizure. That’s when Doctor Wells showed up saying he could help and I went to ask Henry what he thinks, they won’t let him see Barry, and he said they called, and I do not trust Doctor Wells. Everyone’s saying the storm was caused by the accelerator and at the least Barry was struck the exact moment we felt the blast, I was downstairs, we all heard the crash, and he’s not even a medical doctor, he’s a physicist. How can he possibly know more than actual doctors?”

“He’s been studying the effects of the particle accelerator since that night,” Hartley said. “He’s been trying to help everyone who got hurt that night, not just your friend.”

“But it’s just coincidence the two of you work for him and have been looking for Barry and are living in his old house and have his bedroom set up the same and his dissertation has been here when he hasn’t.”

Nora said something and shook her head.

“You’re trapped in the mirror,” Cisco said. “Everything’s backwards.” Nora nodded. “I have an idea.”

* * *

Cisco had been trying to work out how to get the impressions out of the mirror for months. It would have helped a little if he could go and get some bits from S.T.A.R. Labs, but given Iris was still not sure about trusting Doctor Wells and Hartley still wasn’t sure exactly how telling Doctor Wells about ghosts would go, so they could work out something else. He had a plan.

“Do you know what happened to the house after?” Laurel asked.

“The bank repossessed it,” Iris said. “Or maybe someone else, either way it was sold to someone who never actually showed up. Barry and I tried to find out who but didn’t get very far. It’s just been empty for years. Some people said it was haunted, they saw flashing lights, heard noises, I guess they weren’t wrong. I heard some kids broke in once and apparently trashed the basement once a few years ago, Barry was away at college which was a relief, he could never work out whether he wanted to see if there was any truth behind it or not.”

“That would explain the state we found the basement in,” Hartley said. “Were Fox and Sons the estate agents who listed it before?”

“I don’t know, but the name is familiar.”

“They went out of business three years ago yet the man who sold me this place said his name was Gideon Garrick and he worked for Fox and Sons. It was listed as for sale by Fox and Sons when I found the advert online.”

“It has never been listed before,” Iris said. “Barry kept an eye on it.”

“It wasn’t for sale?” Laurel asked.

“No.”

“Got it,” Cisco said. “Okay, the mirror goes face down on this bit, then it should project out.”

“I’ve got it,” Laurel said. She picked the mirror up and put it down on the bit Cisco gestured too. He switched on the projector.

The room was full of lightning. Hartley grabbed hold of Cisco to push him back until they realised it wasn’t moving. And it looked like there was a woman in the middle of it. Silently screaming.

“It’s just an image,” another voice said. Nora Allen was standing beside them. “I don’t understand how. I worked for Fox and Sons.”

“Oh,” Cisco said. “Not a coincidence then.”

“No,” she said. “Someone has been coming in and out of this house for years. I heard them upstairs, but I was never able to hear enough. I felt them move the mirror around. They didn’t say anything I could hear when they did. They said something last night about the last of the evidence, but the only people I’ve been able to hear properly are you. You said Henry was arrested.”

“Yes,” Iris said. “Barry came to live with us. Can you leave?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t get out of the mirror, but Cisco took the mirror home with him.”

“You made the lights flicker,” Cisco said.

“You were hurt. You needed someone to look after you. And you needed to see what he was doing when he turned them off.”

“And you must be able to turn invisible because we didn’t see you in the mirror before,” Hartley said. Nora nodded. “But you had to know what happened to your son. Caitlin Snow is the biochemist and doctor at S.T.A.R. Labs., she’ll be the one who will be looking after him.”

“And you trust her.”

“Yes,” Cisco said. “Completely. I don’t know if she can save him, but I know she won’t stop trying. And I know Hartley and I don’t have any medical knowledge, but we will do all we can to help. And we can figure out a way for Nora to see him when we figure out how ghosts work. Hartley…”

“I told you my house is haunted,” Hartley said.

“You did,” Cisco said. “Okay. I was wrong. Ghosts are real. But you do seem to have a nice ghost?”

“And a murderer has been breaking in and out of my house and there might be evidence somewhere.”

“Is that evidence?” Cisco pointed at the projection.

“I think we need something a little more concrete,” Laurel said. “I need something to do and some time away from Starling.”

“Barry and I have been looking into that for years,” Iris said. “And I’m sure my dad can help.”

“Oh,” Cisco said. “Hartley. If you…”

“Yes,” Hartley said. “He took in your friend. That has a legal process.”

“Yes,” Iris said.

“Would he have advice about that?”

“Oh,” Iris said. “Yes? I’m sure he’d be happy to help with whatever it is, especially if you really think your friend can help Barry.”

“There has to be something,” Nora said. “There has to.”

“She’ll do her best,” Cisco said. “I promise.”

“I’ll tell Dad to call Doctor Wells first thing,” Iris said. “It’s late, I should go.”

“Are you sure?” Hartley asked.

“I live around the corner,” Iris said. “Maybe two corners. It’s a five-minute walk at most. But I’ll leave you my phone number. I- I’ll keep you updated on Barry, Nora.”

* * *

Hartley ended up dropping Cisco back home in the morning. After another night in Hartley’s bed. Laurel was going to let the plasterers in while she talked to Nora about her case.

“You’re sure you’ll be all right,” Hartley said. “He broke into your apartment and Nora said he really can walk through walls.”

“I’ll be fine,” Cisco said. “I can’t stay at yours forever.”

“You could.”

“You’ve got Laurel in the spare room.”

“I know. Nora said- Nora said she would rather I redecorate Barry’s. And I think Iris is going to pick up those boxes so they can go back to him when he wakes up.”

“You think Caitlin can work this out?”

“I think you said you were back soon and between us we can figure out a way for her to do all the tests the hospital couldn’t. But you could have one of the rooms. If you wanted. I could convert the attic for you. I mean, I do have proof my house is haunted now.”

“And I’m sure when something seems too good to be true, you’re going to question it a lot more thoroughly in the future.”

“I’m certainly not intending to look at houses alone ever again.”

“We should get dinner some time.”

“We have before.”

“I mean like a date.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to. Or we can wait if that helps. Until you’ve sorted out everything with Jerrie and the house.”

“No, it- You want to? Why?”

“Because I like you. I like spending time with you. You don’t really need my help with your house anymore but that doesn’t mean we can’t still spend time together. I guess we’re going to work quite closely together since everyone else has left, and I’m still going to help with Nora and Iris and Barry, I said I would, but you know what I mean.”

“I like you too. Dinner sounds nice. When you get your cast off."

"Hopefully that won't be long."


End file.
